


Apples and Oranges and What the Hell is THAT Supposed to be?

by keepitdreamin



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of Cartinelli, Natasha and Peggy are Meddlers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepitdreamin/pseuds/keepitdreamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam kind of had a thing for the skinny blonde guy in his art class.</p><p>Prequel to 'Of Coffee and Kisses' but it's not necessary to read both</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apples and Oranges and What the Hell is THAT Supposed to be?

**Author's Note:**

> So since I wrote 'Of Coffee and Kisses' I have been working on this Steve/Sam prequel as well as a separate Steve/Bucky one. There might be more works added to this universe whenever I get the chance.

Sam kind of had a thing for the skinny blonde guy in his art class.

Steve was always intently focused on his work and pretty much blocked out everything else, and he always ended up with whatever medium they were working with smudged on his face which was just adorable. Sam had seen him around campus a couple of times too, on the quad with a sketchbook and headphones, in the cafeteria sitting with that British girl from Sam's history class (Penny? Perry? Peggy?), or walking to and from buildings with arms full of books and a look that said pretty clearly 'I can handle this myself and if you offer to help I will break your face'.

Natasha didn't look up as she flipped a page in her magazine, “You should just talk to him.”

Sam looked up sharply from his sketchbook where he was _trying_ (and failing miserably) to draw a halfway decent figure, “What?”

Natasha flicked another page, “Steve. You've been going on about him since that class started. Just talk to him, maybe you'll even get your sorry ass a date.”

Sam picked up one of the (many) crumpled pieces of paper and lobbed it at her head, but she raised her magazine and deflected it with the same bored air. “I can't just ask him out. What if he's straight?”

Natasha's eyebrows raised, “Then he'll say no, you can get over your silly little infatuation, and I can go back to enjoying my magazines in peace. But seriously,” she finally looked up from the magazine and gave Sam her best 'I am always right and not taking my advice is just stupid' look, “I doubt he'd say no.”

Sam held her gaze for a moment before sighing and returning to his drawing, which was looking more and more like Big Foot than a person, “Fine. I'll talk to him at the next class. Happy?”

If Sam had been looking, he might have caught the flash of a smile before she rolled her eyes, “Finally.”

-

Natasha sipped from her coffee and scrolled through her phone, actively ignoring the other patrons. Her vibe at the moment was a very clear 'don't mess with me unless you want to be stabbed'one. One woman entered the shop, glanced around for a moment, then slid into the seat next to Natasha, making herself comfortably at home and apparently not noticing (or simply ignoring) the vibe. “So?”

Natasha looked up and nodded, “He said he'd talk to him, and he's never broken his word before.”

Peggy nodded and pulled out a makeup mirror and checked her lipstick. “Good. I normally don't like to meddle, but in this case...” she trailed off.

“If we didn't, it might take _years_ for them to work it out themselves,” Natasha finished with a roll of her eyes.

“Precisely,” Peggy slipped the mirror away just as the waitress appeared at their table.

“Hiya English. What can I get for you today?” she asked brightly.

“Good Morning Angie. I will have...” Peggy thought for a second, “Earl Grey tea.” Angie nodded, curls bouncing slightly. “Oh, and a blueberry scone.”

Angie nodded again and smiled brightly, “Coming right up,” before bustling away. Peggy's eyes followed the movement and Natasha rolled her own before returning to her phone. _I'm going to have to stage an intervention for them next._

-

The class had yet to start and everyone was setting up their stuff when Sam finally called up his nerve and walked purposefully over to Steve.

He took a deep breath, “Hi, I'm Sam.”

Steve, who'd previously been focusing on a book about Monet, looked up, startled, then seemed even more startled when he realized who was talking to him. “Um, hi. I'm Steve,” he replied with a hesitant smile.

Sam grinned, “Mind if I sit next to you today?”

If it was possible for Steve to look even more startled, he would've been and it took a moment for him to reply, “Uh, yeah no, that's fine.” Sam nodded with another smile and sat, pulling out his own sketchpad.

-

Steve was 99% sure he was dead and/or dreaming because no way in his real life would this gorgeous man come say hello then _ask to sit with him_. That just didn't happen. And yet, Steve peeked out the corner of his eye at Sam who was frowning at the bowl of fruit they were supposed to be drawing then at his paper then the fruit again, there he was. Steve shook his head and returned to his own drawing. In the middle of class was not the best time to be flustered by perfect, cute guys talking to him. He'd save that for later.

-

“Wha-What is _that_?”

Sam looked up from where he was searching in his bag for his phone to see Steve looking with a mix of fascination and utter horror at his sketchpad. “Yeah, it's not so great.”

Steve tore his eyes away and stared at Sam with brows raised so high they almost disappeared into his hairline, “Not so great? Were we even _looking_ at the same thing? You were supposed to do a still life of the fruit, you know that right?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “That…” he gestured at the sketchpad, “has never been one of my strong suits. Not all of us can be as talented as you, you know.” He leaned to the side to look at Steve's and whistled in admiration.

Steve blushed and shook his head, “Yeah but _that_ ,” he waved his hand at Sam's drawing, “is just so… so…”

Sam tilted his head, “Atrocious? Awful? Crummy, dreadful, lousy, gross, horrid, junky, crappy, horrendous, horrible?” he supplied ticking off on his fingers.

Steve smiled, “I was just going to go with bad, but yeah, those too.” He glanced at his own, then back at Sam's and bit his lip, “You know… if you wanted, I could help teach you? Maybe you could get your fruit recognizable as, you know, fruit.”

Sam's eyes lit up, “That'd be great! Here,” he finally pulled out his phone and held it out to Steve, “put in your number and we can set up a time later, yeah?”

Steve took the phone and quickly entered the contact as Sam finished packing up his stuff.

When he was done, Sam took back the phone with a smile, “Well, I guess I'll see you later, Steve.” then he waved and was off.

-

Natasha sat calmly on Sam's bed, looking at her phone, as he tossed shirt after shirt from the closet. “Natasha! You're the reason I'm in this mess, you could at least help me choose what to wear!” Sam was most definitely not whining... okay, yes, so he _was_ whining a little bit. But he was about to go over to Steve's dorm room and have a private lesson and he was freaking out.

He had thought admiring Steve from afar was bad? Knowing him was way worse. Unlike other people whose flaws became apparent the more you got to know them, all Sam had learned about Steve was he was even more adorable than he'd previously thought. They'd texted back and forth and Steve was really just sweet and funny and they'd followed each other on Snapchat where he sent goofy selfies and photos of cute dogs and funny looking flowers. AND Sam had learned, he wasn't just adorable and sweet, but also a fucking badass, if any of the pictures his friends would share on his Instagram were true. A lot of them showed Steve with a busted lip, black eye or bruised knuckles and the comments all centered around how Steve was always getting into fights (“I'm not always getting into fights, I just don't like bullies” Steve commented on one of them) and was he behaving himself in college now (“... yes...” Steve commented, followed immediately by Peggy politely calling him a goddamn liar and that he'd gotten into a fight with a frat boy just last week because he'd been catcalling some girls in the quad, followed by about 7 different people- Sam didn't recognize their names or pictures so they probably knew each other from high school- with various iterations of “That's our Steve” and “Hasn't changed a bit”). So basically Steve was cute and nice and just plain _good_ and oh god, Sam was about to go over to his dorm and talk to him in person and how was he supposed to do that???

Riley looked up from where he'd been concentrating on his laptop, “Hey, Sam. I can feel you freaking yourself out from over here. You gotta remember to breathe, buddy.”

Once Sam had actually stopped and taken a few deep breaths, Riley nodded and turned back to his laptop. “Oh, and if you're going to be doing art, you don't want to wear anything too fancy,” he added over his shoulder, almost in afterthought, “so I'd go with the green henley.”

Sam picked up the shirt and eyed it, “The green henley, you're sure?”

Natasha looked up from her phone and nodded, “Yes, you look good in it, but not like you're trying too hard. And when you push it up to your elbows, you can _really_ tell you work out.”

She eyed Sam critically for a moment then nodded, “Yeah. The henley, those jeans, sneakers and you're all set.” Sam sighed in relief.

_-_

_From BWidow: Mine is freaking out over what to wear. Hbu?_

_From AgentC: Same but also cleaning at a breakneck pace. I think he's vacuumed twice_

Peggy looked up from where she was lounged on the sofa next to the window. “Steve, that shirt looks fine. So have the last 20 shirts you've tried on.”

“Yeah but...” Steve tugged on the hem, “it's not too much right?”

Peggy pushed herself up and came to stand in front of Steve. She put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arms length before giving him a long, hard look. “Steve, I guarantee that you look absolutley fine. Also, if you try to change one more time, I will leave and take all of your clothes with me except the Sonic pajamas.”

Steve laughed a little, “Alright, thanks Peg.” Peggy stepped back and sat on the sofa once again.

_F rom AgentC: If these two don't end up getting together tonight, I'm going to have to resort to locking them into a closet together because I will not be able to help prep for another 'liking you but maybe you think it's platonic' kind-of date again._

_From BWidow: The janitor's closet on the third floor of the ruxin building has only one key and locks from the outside._

_From AgentC: ... and you know this because?_

_From Bwidow: BECAUSE some of my friends are idiots and need extra motivation to get together_

-

Riley shoved him out of the dorm room at 3:20. “You'll be fine!” he yelled encouragingly through the locked door.

The 10 minute walk across campus somehow felt both like an eternity and over far too soon. It was like he'd blinked and then he was in front of Steve's door, hand raised to knock. The door opened before he could and Peggy almost walked straight into him.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry.”

“Oh no, it's fine.” Sam waved away the apology

Steve appeared behind her in the door and damn, he looked cute. They both kind of froze, just staring at each other. Peggy's eyes flickered between them, lips turned up into a smile, before stepping out of the way, “Well, I really must be going. Steve. Sam.” She nodded at them in farewell before walking briskly away.

Sam stood there awkwardly for a second before Steve shook himself out of it and gestured behind him, “So, uh, come on in.”

-

Sam wasn't quite sure how the lesson had turned out like this, but he was certainly not complaining. It had started innocently enough with Steve showing him the different methods of drawing with a pencil (thick lines vs thin lines, heavy hand vs light hand, shading, something called hatching etc). One moment, they'd been laughing at the apple he'd drawn (“it looks kind of like a potato, or maybe an alien”), and the next they'd been kissing. Sam wasn't sure who had actually made the first move, but it didn't really matter because now they were on Steve's couch, sketchbook and pencils pushed aside, and kissing like there was no tomorrow. Sam could definitely live with this.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
